An Unlikely Hero
by WolfWarrior1
Summary: Dragon was just a normal Imperial with a weird name, but when he is captured by the Empire as he tried to cross the border into Skyrim his life takes a slightly different turn, now including a paranoid mage, a theiving cat and a drunk Nord.
1. Helgen

The air was cold. That was the first thing the Imperial noticed as he came to. He shook the grogginess from his head and tried to stretch, only to discover his hands wye bound. Great. The Imperial huffed, gaining the attention of the three others sharing the horse drawn carriage.

"Hey you!" A blonde man spoke up. The Imperial looked away from the gagged man sitting beside him and looked at the Nord. "Finally awake, you were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there." The man motioned towards the smaller fellow sitting next to him.

"Damn you Stormcloaks," The smaller man sneered. "Skyrim was done until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy..." The man grumbled, "If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell." The smaller man turned towards the Imperial, who had been sitting quietly and listening. "You there. You and me, we shouldn't be here, it's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants."

"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, theif." The blonde Nord spoke up.

"Shut up back there!" The carriage driver griped.

"What's wrong with him, huh?" The smaller man gestured towards the gagged man.

"Watch your tongue!" The Blonde Nord warned. "That's Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!"

"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? The leader of the rebellion... but if they captured you..." Realization spread across the smaller man's face. "Gods. Where are they taking us?

"I don't know where we're going, but Sovengarde awaits." The blonde Nord remarked solemnly. The Imperial tensed at that. Oh Gods indeed.

"No, this can't be happening! This isn't happening!" The smaller man gulped.

"Hey," The blonde Nord turned to the smaller, dark haired man. "What village are you from?"

"Why do you care?" The smaller man spat.

"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." The blonde Nord replied. The Imperial bowed his head and thought of Cyrodiil and of his father.

The smaller man signed, "Rorikstead... I'm... I'm from Rorikstead." Light broke through the tall trees as the carriage pulled up to a village surrounded by a small wall.

"General Tullius sir!" A guard cried. "The headsman is waiting!"

"Good, let's get this over with." Another man, General Tullius, replied.

"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynerath, Akatosh. Divines, please help me!" The smaller man prayed.

"Look at him, General Tullius, the military governor." The Nord sneered. "And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this." The Nord sighed and looked around. "This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl here." A small smile crossed the Nord's features. "I wonder if Vilod still makes the mead with Juniper berries mixed it." The Nord took another look around and sighed. "Funny, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe."

"Who are they dad?" The Imperial turned to look around and caught the eyes of a small boy looking at the soldiers and prisoners with wonder. "Where are they going?" The Imperial smiled at the boy's innocence.

"Nowhere son, go inside." The boy's father replied.

"But I wanna watch the soldiers." The boy protested before he left the Imperial's field of vision. He heard the father urge his son to go inside again and an exasperated "yes papa" and smiled bitterly. The boy didn't need to see this.

"What?! Why are we stopping!?" The smaller man cried.

"Why do you think?" The Nord retorted solemnly. "End of the line." The carriage stopped with a jerk. "Come on, must'nt keep the gods waiting."

"No, wait we're not rebels!" The smaller man shouted as he and the gagged man, Ulfric, were beckoned off of the carriage.

"Face your death with courage, theif." The Nord stepped off behind them. The Imperial stood and follwed them off as the smaller man spoke again.

"You got to tell them, we weren't with you! This is a mistake!" The smaller man pleaded.

"Step towards the block when we call your name! One at a time!" A female voice called.

"Empire loves their Damned lists." The Nord grunted.

"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm." A soldier called.

"It's been an honor, Jarl Ulfric." The blonde Nord bowed his head towards the gagged Jarl.

"Ralof of Riverwood." The blonde Nord stepped forward and headed for the block. "Lokir of Rorikstead."

"No! I'm not a rebel! You can't do this!" The theif ran past the soldiers.

"Archers!" The woman snarled. The Imperial winced as an arrow was sent flying and Lokir was sent to the ground in a lifeless heap, he hadn't even known the man's name for five seconds and he was dead. "Anyone else feel like running?"

"Wait," The Imperial turned his attention the soldier holding the list. "You there, step forward." Threw Imperial food as told. "Who are you?"

"I am Dragon." The Imperial stated, suddenly very aware of the rope around his wrists. The soldier wrinkled hours now at the Imperial's...unique name.

"You're a long way from the Imperial City. What're you doing in Skyrim?" The soldier commented, Dragon didn't bother answering as the soldier turned to the woman. "Captain, what should we do? He isn't on the list."

"Forget the list, he goes to the block." The Captain waved him off. Dragon sighed, he knew he wouldn't be getting out of this so easily.

"By your orders Captain. I'm sorry you'll die here and not in your homeland." The soldier have him a look of regret. "Follow the Captain, prisoner."

"Ulfric Stormcloak, Helgen calls you hero, " General Tullius started. "But a hero doesn't use a power like hours voice to murder his king and usurp his throne," Dragon looked at the gagged Jarl in surprise. "You started this war! You plunged Skyrim into chaos! And now the Empire will put you down and restore peace!"

A thunderous sound pervaded the air, Dragon looked to the sky, that sounded vaguely familiar.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Carry on."

"Yes General Tullius!" The Captain nodded and looked to a priestess."

The Priestess began, "As we commend your soul to Atherius, the blessings of the eight Divines-"

"Oh for the love of Talos!" A Stormcloak soldier grunted, stomping up to block. "Shut up and let's get this over with!"

"As you wish."

Dragon had to say he admired the man's bravery, or stupidity. Either one of those.

"Come on, I haven't got all morning!" The soldier griped before he was shoved to his knees in front of the block. The Stormcloak smirked, "My ancestors are smiling in me Imperials, can you say the same?"

Dragon flinched at the sound of the headsman's axe lopping off the head of the Stormcloak.

"You Imperial bastards!" A female Stormcloak cried.

"Justice!" An Imperial soldier shouted.

" Death to the Stormcloaks!" Another roared.

Dragon heard Ralof sigh next to him, "As fearless in death, as he was in life."

"Next, the Imperial!" Dragon gulped as he was called, only to stop and look at the sky when anther bout of thunder sounded. Only... It sounded more like a roar. A troll, perhaps?

"There it is again," An Imperial soldier said. "Did you hear that?"

"I said NEXT PRISONER!" The Captain shouted.

"To the block, nice and easy." Dragon heard from his left. The Imperial sighed, and walked up to the block, he was pushed to his knees, he heard the priestess begin her prayer as his head was pushed onto the block. He stared up at the executioner in fear. He heard several shouts and the ground shook when he saw it...

A dragon, a large dark dragon landed on the tower in front of him as the headsman raised his axe high.

"Behind you!" Dragon shouted as the dragon opened its great mouth.


	2. Whiterun

Dragon poked his head through the foliage and gazed at the city in the distance.

"Whiterun." He breathed. Quickly, he hopped off the boulder he had been perched on. Regretting this immediately when his heavy Imperial armor weighed him down. "Man, should've stuck with the Stormcloak armor." He grumbled as he sheathed the sword that he also looted from the Imperial, promising to remember to clean the blood from it later, and moved on to the city.

Passing a farm on the way, he spotted the body of a dead giant. Wow, who could've done this? He thought as he looked the corpse over. He had never seen a dead giant before. Dragon pulled the arrow that had previously pierced the giant's eye and examined it. If someone in the city managed to do this, I should probably watch my back.

Throwing the arrow away, he continued on, towards Whiterun, passing farms and stables. He continued up the small hill, over the downed drawbridge.

"Yes, I'm here! I can't feel my legs!" He cried, running towards the gate.

"Halt!" The guard demanded, blocking his entrance.

"C'mon! I just walked here in this heavy armor all the way from Helgen!" Dragon shouted. "I need to see the Jarl about the dragon attack!" The guards looked at each other for a second before the guard who had stopped the former prisoner motioned for him to enter. "Oh. Really? That was easy." Dragon hauled ass into the city and took a look around.

Wow.

He had never been in a city this big before. Not even in his homeland of Cyrodiil did he venture farther away from his home what was then necessary for his survival. This was just amazing!

Dragon smiled, looking around taking in all the sights and smells when he saw it. Dragonsreach. That is where he needed to go. He hopped to it, up the stairs, sprinting, avoiding the man screeching about Talos and stopping at the very, very...tall...staircase.

"This day sucks."

Irileth was weary of everyone, ever since being appointed Housecarl to Balgruuf the Greater, she considered everything to be a danger. Many would-be assassins had met their end by her blade. She took her job very seriously, never letting up for even a moment. So when she spotted a sweaty stranger, huffing and puffing as he staggered past the great fire pit in middle of the room, nearly falling in once or twice, she was very much suspicious of him. The young man stumbled up the small amount of stairs, ignoring Irileth and making a beeline for the Jarl.

"Halt." Irileth stepped in his path.

The young man whined loudly, doubling over and putting his hands on his knees, "Helgen...dragon attack...Riverwood. Why do you have so many stairs!?" And with that the young man collapsed in a heap at Irileth's feet. Irileth blinked and looked at the Jarl, who was staring at the man's unconscious body.

"Irileth...what did you do?"

Dragon had a very short attention span.

It wasn't obvious at first glance. From a distance he looked like your average Imperial.

But when you started talking to him, you quite possibly see any interest in what you have to say leave him.

So when the Jarl of Whiterun sent him to speak to his Court Wizard, Farengar Secret-Fire he thinks his name is, it doesn't take too long for that short attention span to kick in.

Something. Something. "Dragons." Something. Something. "Bleak Falls Barrow." And that's about all he gets from the conversation.

At this point he wasn't even looking at the mage anymore, just staring over his shoulder and off into space. And suddenly there's someone in his line of sight.

A man walked into the room, a pair of heavy books in his arms which he slammed onto the table with a 'thud'. Dragon tilted his head (which, unfortunately, Farengar mistook for interest and continued on avidly) and examined the newcomer. He appeared to be an Imperial, the his sharper features were more Elven, a Breton maybe? Didn't seem unlikely. Breton's were good at magic and his mage robes told Dragon that he probably worked with Farengar.

Shit. I should probably start listening. Dragon turned his attention back Farengar.

"So could you get it for me?" The court wizard asked. Dragon blinked, staring at the man.

"Uhhh...hmm...sure...?"

Farengar smiled brightly, "Great! Here. My assistant will show you the way." He motioned towards the young Breton who jumped knocking over a soul gem. Farengar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Be careful in giving Collistar anything important, he is quite..." Collistar tripped over his robes, and in the process of falling to the ground knocked several potions from table. "Clumsy." Farengar grumbled. "This mess will take ages to clean up." The wizard turned back to Dragon. "In any case, I shall leave you to prepare for your journey." And with that Farengar walked away.

Dragon watched while Collistar frantically tried to clean the mess he had created for a second before he strolled over, avoiding usually colored substances and shards of broken glass to stick his hand out to the young mage.

"Hey man, I'm Dragon."

Collistar looked up at Dragon from under his messy brown hair and mage hood and just stared.

"Are...are you serious?"

Dragon blinked, tilted his head to the side, "What?"

Collistar waved him off, "Never mind." And stood, wiping his now green hands on his already soiled robes and grasped Dragon's hand lightly, offering a polite, but nervous smile. "I am Collistar." Dragon nodded, thinking for second.

"So...um...what exactly does that wizard guy want me to do?" Dragon asked letting out a nervous chuckle.

It was Collistar's turn to stare, "You...you weren't listening at all were you?"

"Not even a little."

Collistar sighed, "Farengar wishes for you to travel to Bleak Falls Barrow and retrieve the Dragonstone."

"The hell is a Dragonstone?" Dragon furrowed his eyebrows.

"It's a map of Dragon burial sites." Collistar explained.

"Why would Farengar need that?"

"I don't know." Collistar shrugged.

Dragon nodded thoughtfully before clapping his hands together, "Welp! We better get going! Meet back here in an hour."

"W-what!?" Collistar spat out as Dragon brushed past him. Collistar followed him closely.

"Well yeah, didn't you hear the wizard, you gotta show me the way." Dragon explained as he strolled through the Dragonsreach throne room without a care in the world.

"B-but sir! I-I haven't been outside of the city in 13 years!" Collistar nearly tripped over his robes as he followed the taller man into into palace's large kitchen.

"Well now's a good time to get there and get some fresh air!" Dragon replied with a smile as he examined a carrot. He took a bite out of it before grinning wider and stuffing the remaining vegetables in his pack.

"I don't think I'd be all that useful to you sir! Perhaps I can ask one of the more "battle-ready" citizens to accompany you!" Collistar cringed as he watched Dragon stuff a goat leg into his pack, an apple already stuffed into his mouth. "I'm not even a fully realized mage! I could endanger y-"

"Relax Collie." Dragon waved him off. Collistar raised an eyebrow at the new nickname. "We'll be fine. Just gotta believe. Now go get packed, and we'll meet by the city gates."

Collistar frowned, opening his mouth, prepared to retort but was stopped by Dragon shooing him away. With a sigh, the young mage moved on, knowing now that arguing would be pointless, plus the mix of potions he had spilled on his robes was starting to itch...and tingle...and burn.

All at the same time.

Collistar trudged down Whiterun's main path slowly, his skin tinged red from all the scrubbing that needed to be done, a fresh set of robes on and a bag filled to the brim with various potions he thought would be useful. He spotted Dragon at the main gate, chatting with a guard and quickened his pace.

"So, how did you take an arrow to the knee?" He asked.

"Well funny you should ask that-"

"Collie!" Dragon walked away from the guard who Collistar imagined had a confused expression under his helmet. Collistar was about to greet the man but he instead walked behind him and began messing with his pack. "So what'd ya bring?" He heard the clinking of bottles as Dragon began rummaging around. "Why're there so many red ones?"

"They're healing potions." Collistar answered turning to face Dragon, he blinked, something was different about the armored man. He examined him before before he saw it, a new sword was strapped to his hip. "Where'd you find that?"

Dragon followed his gaze to the sword and grinned, grabbing the hilt and unsheathing the weapon, holding it up to the sun, "I just bought it, pretty nice right?" Collistar examined the weapon which he now noted was steel.

"Wow, how'd you get such a great sword?" Collistar questioned. Dragon smiled at him sheepishly.

"Well, the Jarl said I could have anything in Dragonsreach so I may have taken a little gold here and there..." Collistar's eyes widened. First he gets sent on a dangerous mission, now he's going on a dangerous mission with a thief. Great. Dragon merely shrugged, "I also found this cool gem." He took a gold case out of his pack, a bright glowing gem floating above the fabric interior of the case. "I don't know what it is, but I like it." He grinned, throwing the gem back into his pack.

Dragon and Collistar stared at each other for a few moments longer before Dragon clapped his hands together and moved past him. "Let's get going! We can find this Dragonstone thing and be back in time for sweetrolls!"

Collistar sighed, tugging the hood of his robes over his tighter and following after him.


End file.
